


The Hallway Incident

by Flanemoji



Series: St. Maturin's Regional Hospital [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Canon Divergent, F/M, Gen, Hospital Setting, M/M, Multi, Multiverse, descriptions of gore/ organs, eddie and richie are not together (yet), emt richie tozier, nurse eddie kaspbral, nurse patty blum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:06:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26199790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flanemoji/pseuds/Flanemoji
Summary: EMT Richie Toizier comes back from a ride to a text message from his best friend and local coffee-addicted nurse, Eddie Kaspbrak. Lured with the promise of hot chocolate and gloating, he heads over to the break room.Things do NOT go as planned.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: St. Maturin's Regional Hospital [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903891
Comments: 19
Kudos: 79





	The Hallway Incident

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! So this is something Im working on and I would LOVE to gauge some interest. There's a whole possible story here, so if you're interested in me making more for this, drop me a comment below ;)

Richie has never seen a hospital with the lights off.

No, like...seriously. In all his years working in and out of them, he has not  _ once _ seen more than one area without any light at all. 

Sometimes the night shift nurses on the floor liked to dim them after midnight, like vampires, or someone might cut the lights in a break room to take a hidden nap, but never… like this. Not even during a natural disaster! Hospitals had back up generators, and backup generators for  _ those _ backup generators, and whole ass grids of crazy underground wires, because if the power goes out, ventilators shut off, machines stop working, and people die.

So when he gets to the east corridor that leads towards the emergency department’s locker room and sees nothing but darkness, it makes him a little uneasy.

Well, not a little uneasy. A  _ lot _ uneasy. 

He’d just gotten back from a drive, bringing in some teenager who pepper-sprayed himself on dare, when he got a text from Eddie, asking him to meet him in the break room. Richie had been waiting  _ all _ night for this, because Kaspbrak owed him exactly one Venti hot chocolate with three pumps of hazelnut and extra whipped cream after losing a dare on how long it would take for Stan to pop the question to Miss Patty Blum (Eddie  _ swore _ up and down that Stan would wait at least a month longer, but Richie just has a sense for these things, you know) and today was payday. 

This hospital, though, was constantly under construction, a new wing here or a bigger space there, so the ED’s locker room had been moved recently to some little storage room two hallways down, something that had Eddie bitching up a storm for a week. Personally, Richie liked it; it meant when Eddie was taking a break, it would take a  _ lot _ longer for someone to hunt him down and cut it short, and if Richie was lucky enough to get a break at the same time, it took a little longer to find him and force him back to work. Win-win if you ask him.

The point is, it takes a whole hallway, a left turn, and another hallway to get to the break room, which is an easy little stroll for someone who is in a delightful mood with the knowledge he’s going to spend five minutes slurping chocolate and gloating over his best friend, a mood that comes to a screeching halt when Richie turns into the second corridor because, well…

The lights are all off.

And like he’d said before… The lights at the hospital  _ were never off. _

Richie takes a hesitant step forward, swallowing when his sneakers echo loudly on the linoleum. If it wasn’t weird enough the lights were off, it was also eerily silent, another rarity for this place. Even if the sounds were distant, you could hear them: elevators, gurneys, squeaking shoes, a heart monitor… there was always  _ something _ … and this sudden lack of nothing grated on Richie’s nerves even more than an IV machine going off (and that’s saying something.) His heart starts to beat a little quicker, unable to stop the slow-growing sense of anxiety that is starting to fill him up. If the lights are off here, where else is the power out? Did something happen to cause a malfunction? Usually there would be some sort of announcement overhead, or one of those dumb systems emails…

“Hello?” The soft sound of footsteps from somewhere ahead makes him call out and take another step forward. “Are ya fixin’ the lights or…"

An electric pop cracks behind him and Richie turns on his heel, staring as sparks fall to the floor from one of the overhead lights. It flickers for a moment before staying steady, a fluorescent blue glow that has no place being there.

“The fuck…” 

In the same way the first light sprung to life, each one in the hallway follows suit, a domino effect down the hallway towards the end, and when Richie turns back around to face forward, there’s a shadowy figure standing in the middle, facing in the opposite direction. Richie shuffles one more step toward them.

“H-Hey, are you--”

“Rich…” The figure cuts him off, flooding him with relief when he recognizes it as Eddie’s voice.

“Eds! Holy shit, dude, what the fuck? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Richie laughs, shoulders sagging and steps getting surer. “I get it, tryin’a prank the ol’ prankster, huh? You  _ that _ pissed about losin’ out little bet, Kaspbrak? I wouldn’t have pegged you as a sore...loser…” Richie’s words begin to slow as he approaches Eddie, who has yet to turn and face him. His shoulders are still hunched awkwardly, like he’s holding something tight to his body. His breathing is loud and heavy, bouncing off the walls like some sort of haunted house recording. Richie notices a spot of dark red at the edge of his scrub top. 

“Did you have another code? Very out of character for you to not change before a break Kaspbrak.” Richie jokes weakly, all the previous relief he’d felt seeping out of him through cold fingertips. “Spaghetti, c’mon… are you okay?” Richie reaches out and puts a gentle hand on Eddie’s shoulder, stiffening when he finally starts to tilt his head to look back at him. 

“Rich… Richie it hurts.” Tears drip down his cheeks, leaving watery trails in the blood splattered there. 

“E-Eddie! Eds, what happened, oh my god!” Richie chokes on his words, stammering out half-finished sentences as he grips Eddie’s shoulders to turn him around. He doesn’t fight Richie’s motions, merely curling around himself more as he faces him. Eddie’s entire front is covered in blood, soaking his top and coating his arms. “C-C’mon man, stop playing with me… You got me, okay? The prankster’s been pranked.” Richie’s voice is shaking.

“R-Richie…” Eddie coughs, and a fat droplet of blood falls onto the white floor between them. 

With trembling hands Richie reaches forward, gripping Eddie’s forearms in an attempt to get him to straighten out. It’s a joke,  _ it’s a joke _ , because there’s no way this could be… there’s no way  _ Eddie _ is...is…his hands brush against Eddie’s bloodstained chest.

“ _ Holy fuck! _ ” Richie gasps, jerking back violently to stare at his now saturated hands. They’re warm and sticky with fresh blood,  _ real blood. _

**_Eddie’s blood._ **

Eddie crumbles to the floor, a choked gasp for air that pierces through Richie’s entire body like a million knives. He drops to his knees on the floor and grabs Eddie’s face, terror filling up his entire body like ice in his veins. “C’mon, buddy, it’s… it’s okay I’m gonna--” Richie’s heart is racing, pounding so hard against his ribcage it’s making his vision blurry. He sucks in a deep breath and starts to scream. 

“HELP!  _ Anyone _ we need help!” Richie looks around them frantically, squeezing Eddie’s cheeks a little harder between his hands when his surroundings begin to shift and sway into something unfamiliar. The white hospital floors are still under them and the ugly blue lights are still above them, but the doors are carved into stony cliff walls. Richie can’t see where the hallway starts and the hallway ends, just one singular  _ ‘Exit’ _ glowing an eerie red ahead of him. It seems much further than it had a few minutes ago. “What the fuck,  _ what the fuck? _ ” Richie gasps, whipping his head around to look into the darkness that waits behind them. “W-where is--- Hello?  _ HELLO? _ Can anyone  _ fuckin’ _ hear me! We need  _ HELP! _ Please!” He shouts at the top of his lungs, his desperate voice bouncing off the walls. 

“Richie, it  _ hurts _ …” Eddie repeats, his voice such a soft, mousy tone compared to his usual fire. Richie’s heart drops into his stomach, pushing Eddie away from him just enough to look down between them. Eddie’s arms have moved away from his stomach just an inch, which is an inch too much for Richie to handle. A deep maroon river gurgles out between fleshy pink entrails. Richie whimpers, swallowing the bile that comes up and burns his throat.

“Oh, god, fuck,  _ shit… _ ” Richie can feel the panic building, blocking out all the useful information from his brain. “Focus,  _ fuck, _ focus! E-evisceration, I need.. I-I” His hands over awkwardly between them, grabbing Eddie’s own arms and holding them back towards his torso as gently as possible. He needs sterile water, bandages, a drape…

Eddie starts to mumble, hugging himself with his head hung. He looks so small, and Richie feels so helpless. What fucking good is years of training when he has no access to anything! “W-what is it Eds? It’s okay, talk to me, keep talkin’ to me.” Richie starts calling for help again. There’s no way he can do this by himself. Where the  _ fuck _ is everyone in this damn hospital?! Eddie’s wide, hurt eyes look up at him, water and blood clumping on his lashes. 

“W-why… why did you leave me?” 

It’s a fucking bullseye of a hit. Richie wants to crumple and his whole body starts to shudder. “E-Eddie… Eddie I’m sorry I- I was…”

“Why, Richie? W-why would you leave me?”

“I was out on a job, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I had no idea, I-I… the ambulance--and--”

“Why did you leave me down there to die, Richie?”

“W-What? What are you talking about, I’d never leave you to die, Eddie, I-I’d never--!” Richie doesn’t try to hold it back anymore, the hot sting of tears pricking behind his eyes. His chest feels the way Eddie’s looks; a big gaping hole with his organs being pulled out, and he is quick to fill all that space with guilt. It falls on him like a boulder, because he left him,  _ he left him. _

“You left me Richie.” Blood seeps from Eddie’s lips as he says it.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m  _ sorry _ , Eddie!” Richie is panting, his voice cracking along with his heart. He’d never leave Eddie, he wouldn’t  _ he wouldn’t! _ “I-I… we’re gonna get you fixed up, okay? I promise, I promise you’re gonna be okay, I  _ swear _ !” 

Richie is on his knees, pathetic sobs wracking his chest. He left him,  _ he left him _ , but he won’t do it again, he won’t,  _ he won’t _ . He tries to reach a hand out towards Eddie, who seems further than he did only a moment ago, when something grabs his arm and  _ yanks _ .

“N-no! No, let  _ go!” _ Richie crawls forward, grunting with the effort of fighting against whatever has a vice grip on his wrist. He reaches the other arm forward and that one is pulled back as well, another inch away from Eddie. “Let me go,  _ let me go!”  _

Richie throws himself to the floor, hand outstretched towards Eddie. Something grabs his leg and  _ pulls _ , his fingers trying to find purchase on uneven ground. The white tiles become rough and rocky, scraping his fingertips as he claws his way forward. It stings, and there’s blood, but Richie doesn’t care, because he needs to get to Eddie. 

“Eddie! Eddie I won’t leave you, I swear! Let me  _ GO you motherFUCKERS!”  _ Richie screams, the echos mocking his futile efforts to fight whatever is holding him back. He writhes against the invisible forces, kicking and elbowing at nothing, being dragged into the darkness. “ _ EDDIE!”  _

“Richie! Richie, come back!  _ Richie! _ ” Eddie’s voice feels like it’s all around him, suffocating him. 

Richie starts to scream again, shouting until his throat is raw, and he  _ fights. _ He fights because he can still hear Eddie pleading with him, asking him to come back. He fights because he can’t handle the thought of leaving Eddie again, like he did when...Like he did when…

_ Richie! Rich! RICHIE, COME BACK! _

It feels like his chest is exploding, breaking open every bone in his torso. It feels like he swallowed glass, but he keeps screaming, hoping the void carries his promises to Eddie. He continues to fight whatever is holding him down, because he has to,  _ he has to! _

_ Richie!! Richie please! RICHIE! _

> **_RICHIE!_ **
> 
> **_R_ ** **_I C_ ** **_H I_ ** **_E_ ** **_!_ **
> 
> **_RICHIE_ **

****

* * *

“Richie! Richie, please!” 

Eddie thinks his voice might be gone for a week with how much he’s been screaming. He grabs Richie’s shoulders and holds him down as another set of convulsions wrack his body, his back arching off the stretcher like the Exorcist. Two of his coworkers hold down his left arm while Eddie takes the right, his whole body pressed against his side to try and hold him down. 

“Richie, wake  _ up! _ ” He tries again, but Richie just screams in response, an unhinged sound that sends a chill down his spine. He looks over to the monitor and curses. 

“Epi!” He shouts at a nurse who is holding down the bottom half of Richie’s arm. She falters, looking like she doesn’t want to let go of Richie’s arm, but Eddie shoots her a glare that could kill an animal. “ _ Now,  _ Emily, epinephrine, and where the  _ fuck _ are those restraints!” 

She runs off and Eddie puts more weight onto Richie, grunting with the effort it takes to keep him from moving his arm. He thrashes again, trying to kick with his right leg and elbow someone with his right, but the team has him steady. It takes two nurses on each leg to keep him down. Eddie glances up at the monitor again, anxiety spiking as he watches Richie’s heart rate get higher, lose more waveform. His blood pressure continues to drop, five points lower on both ends since the last reading a minute ago. “Fuck,  _ fuck!” _

“Richie! Richie, I need you to stay with me, okay?” Eddie shouts again, Reaching up with one hand to turn Richie’s face towards him. His eyes are half shut and his chest is heaving with the effort of breathing. He opens one eyelid with his fingers, Richie’s glazed over eyes looking right through him with blown pupils. The monitor beeps rapidly, indicating an uptick in Richie’s heart rate.

Eddie is about to yell for more back-up when Emily returns, syringes in hand. He feels bad for yelling at her, but thankfully the angel drew everything up. He grabs the medication from her hand and reaches over Richie’s middle to his opposite arm, attaching the syringe to his IV. “Saline ready?”

He pushes the medication as soon as he gets the affirmative. 

Richie’s whole body shudders again, contorting against them all in one, final spasm before it slams back into the bed. Eddie stares at the screen and waits the longest five seconds of his life.

His heart rate begins to stabilize, but Richie doesn’t move. Eddie puts a hand on his chest and waits, unintentionally breathing in time with the inhale and exhale of Richie’s lungs expanding. The only sound is Richie’s heart.

And then, thankfully,  _ finally, _ Richie gasps, shooting up from the bed. The team holds him down, Richie panting and wheezing for air. He squirms frantically against the hold on him, shouting curses and Eddie’s name.

“Rich, Richie! Calm down, I’m right here!” Eddie lets go of his arm and grabs his face, watching as Richie’s unfocused gaze flits back and forth over his face. Eddie’s heart drops when he realizes Richie still isn’t all there. His hand, now free from Eddie’s grasp, starts slamming and clenching against the sheets, Richie looking around the room in terror. Eddie keeps trying to talk him down.

“Richie, listen,  _ listen,  _ you’re okay, you’re at the hospital, you hear me? Richie, nod if you can hear me.” 

Richie doesn’t nod. Instead, he turns his head to face Eddie and he sobs, his palm spreading flat against Eddie’s chest. He clenches the fabric tightly, over and over, like he’s expecting something to be there. 

“ _ Eddie… I’m sorry… _ ” 

His heart rate starts to go up again, and Eddie has to turn towards the monitor. 

“We’re gonna have to sedate him.” Someone says. Eddie whips his head to glare daggers at them. It’s Richie’s coworker, Steve. 

“ _ No. _ ” 

“He’s a danger to himself, Kaspbrak!” Steve responds, gesturing toward the monitor. “He’s gonna crash again!” 

Eddie spares a moment for the monitor, watching as the number ticks upward.  _ Fuck. _

“Richie, hey, listen to me.” Eddie turns Richie’s head to face him again. He’s staring like a terrified child, eyes out of focus; Eddie feels like he’s getting stabbed. “Richie, we gotta give you something to calm you down. Your heart rate is too high. You’re gonna go to sleep, but I’ll be there when you wake up, okay?”

Richie starts to shake his head, fighting against everyone once more. The monitor starts to sound off alarms. Eddie squeezes his arm and continues to talk.

“It’s okay, Rich, it’s okay. You’re gonna wake up, and we’ll find out what happened, okay? It’s gonna be okay, just relax for me, please?”

Richie doesn’t get a chance to fight back this time. Steve is already pushing more medication. Richie’s body goes limp in Eddie’s grasp, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. Eddie puts himself to work immediately, cleaning up syringes and hooking his best friend up to fluids. He focuses on the mundane aspects of it all, setting the pump, adjusting the covers, because if he thinks about it being Richie, he’ll crumble.

He doesn’t know how this happened. He had texted Richie to meet up with him in the break room after his ride, running into him on the way to the lockers. Richie had been standing in the hallway, staring at nothing, when Eddie approached him. He’d been about to reach out and tap on his shoulder when Richie stiffened, his limbs bending unnaturally as he dropped to the floor and started to seize. It was terrifying, something that might haunt Eddie for the rest of his life, to see his best friend shake and foam at the mouth, body stiff and rigid. It was a big blur after that, getting Richie to the ED and trying to snap him out of it. There just wasn’t any explanation for it.

“Eddie. You’re getting an admission in bed six.” Rhonda, his bitch of a charge nurse pokes her head in. 

Eddie stares, wide-eyed. “Are you serious? I need to stay with him!” 

“You’re still on the clock, Eddie.”

“Then take me off of it!” He stares at her in disbelief. She cannot be this cruel.

“We’re short today, okay? Until you can find someone to cover, you’re on the clock.”

She hands him the chart and walks out, unfazed by the situation. Eddie, on the other hand, is absolutely furious. This place doesn’t give a shit if they run you ragged. 

He bounces his leg for a few moments, debating on what he should do. On one hand, he could quit. He could just quit, sit in here, and then find some other job. Fuck Rhonda, and fuck this hospital.

“Yeah, keep dreamin’.” Eddie sighs to himself and fishes his phone out of his pocket. He pulls up his favorite contacts list and pulls up the number.

“Eddie? Aren’t you at work?” Patty Blum’s soft voice filters in from the other side of the line.

“Yeah, but I need you to come in and cover for me. It’s an emergency, I’ll explain when you get here, okay?” Eddie rubs at the center of his chest, glancing at Richie’s sleeping form.  He hangs up with a hasty promise that  _ he’s _ fine and heads to the door. He works all of twenty minutes before Patty is there to take over his shift. 


End file.
